


Armed and Dangerous: A Smutty Supernatural Destiel AU Fic

by intheshadowsfics



Series: Armed and Dangerous: An AU Smutty Destiel Fic [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Bodyguard, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rock Star, Slash, Smut, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheshadowsfics/pseuds/intheshadowsfics
Summary: Dean Winchester is a rock star, on a break from the hunting life, and receives news that his agent, Wilkes, has hired him a bodyguard behind his back, without his consent. A certain tall, blue-eyed someone in a trenchcoat. What will happen next? Chapter One, No Rest for the Wicked, is now live! Comments and kudos are welcome, but please be gentle! This is my very first Supernatural fic and also my first AU fic. It's been in his head for months and I just can't take it anymore; I had to write it down and get it out there for the word to see. Stay tuned for more romance, drama, humor, and sexy times! I love you all!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Armed and Dangerous: An AU Smutty Destiel Fic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740367
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. No Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, so first, I'll start this note with a confession: This fic has been bouncing around in my head for months now, almost a year, and I just can't sit on it anymore. This is my first Supernatural fic and my first AU fic! I've been thinking about it and I thought to myself today, what better time to upload? During a pandemic, when everyone wants something to read! This work is fucked up, sexy, dark, and angsty and it's a baby of my heart, I'm so proud. Stay tuned for more, I love each and every one of you! Read on, enjoy, and please feel free to post comments and leave kudos. I love you all, thank you so much for reading!

Armed and Dangerous: An AU Smutty Supernatural Destiel Fic

A note on the title: This work was inspired by one of my favorite JUICE WRLD songs, Armed and Dangerous. It is dedicated to his memory, and this entire fic is dedicated to the cast of Supernatural and of course, its fans. This fic has been brewing in my head for months now; I’ve not yet dipped my toe into the Supernatural fandom pool.

Chapter One: No Rest For the Wicked

Dean Winchester usually loved his life: his still-bright career as a rock star, food, booze, and women, all day every day, nonstop. The routine soothed him, was a distraction from a life he’d tried long ago to leave behind. No, Dean Winchester might well die young, but he would do it on his own terms. He wasn’t about to waste the last of his prime years hunting, missing Sam and Dad and Mom and the little family they’d once been, before Azazel had come into their lives and fucked up everything.

Life had been perfect before their father had gotten into hunting, before he’d left them his dark and bloody legacy of exterminating the things that most people thought were fiction, all those things that went bump in the night. For years, he’d fronted, as if hunting had been a calling he’d chosen of his own free will, not a obligation that carried with it so much pain and so many souls. He hadn’t fought it nearly as much as Sam, but eventually, he was done.

There was only so much family, so many friends, you could lose, and the burden of it all had laid heavy on his heart. In a way, the music had been an escape for him. He’d been drunk at a shabby little dive the night he’d been officially discovered; he’d sweet-talked a pretty girl into lending him her guitar, and the rest was history. It had been easy to sign a contract with the agent who’d found him.

After all they’d been through, what was signing his name to a label for a few years in comparison?

In some ways, life as a rock star was just like the nomadic life of a hunter: always on the road, though he’d had the Impala pretty much confiscated; too recognizable, his  
agent had said. But Dean had put his foot down; Baby was still his car, his beloved, though he was famous now. But that had only worked for a few months. With his star so quickly on the rise, his agent had insisted that he buy Dean a tour bus; the better to transport booze, drugs, girls, and food.

For a while, the distraction of it had worked. Performing, a different city every few days, a different girl every few hours, booze and food and alcohol all at his fingertips, always. The label had let him have an assistant, until he couldn’t help himself and he’d fucked her until she’d begged him for more. After that, his agent had taken more of a controlled, streamlined approach: keep Dean happy using any means necessary, but he handled the details and the logistics.

After all, that was what Dean Winchester paid him for.

The agent walked into the bus, which for the moment, was quiet. “Deany boy, I got a bone to pick with you, son,” He said mildly, holding out a beer, as if it was a peace offering.

“Can’t it wait? I’m tired, and we’ve still got a lot to do tomorrow—”

“Hate to break it to you, Winchester, but this is important. You need a bodyguard.”

Dean barked out an incredulous laugh, grabbing the brew and twisting the top off with deft, calloused fingers.

“A bodyguard? We’ve had this fucking discussion, Wilkes. And I’m sick of repeating myself. I don’t need a bodyguard. You and I both know that I can look after myself, armed or otherwise.”

“Well, contract says that I’ve got control over your security detail, Winnie. It’s been done already; my coming here is merely a professional courtesy.” Wilkins retorted, though his calm tone never wavered. “Some dude in a trenchcoat. Cassio? Cassidy? Fuck, something with a C.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, taking a swig of the bitter, yeasty beer. “Who pays who, in our situation?” He asked, his tone underlying with cruel, silken menace.

“Ha ha, Dean. All power imbalances aside, it’s been done. I gave him directions and told himself to come introduce himself to me and you.”

Dean had just begun to get that restless, itchy feeling that came from boredom; if nothing else, his agent’s premature move made things more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to see this poor sap himself and eat him alive.

Possibly literally.

**


	2. Blood, Sweat, Tears and Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean finally meet face to face, Cas bringing goodies on the request of Wilkes, Dean's handler and publicist. Dean is in a foul temper due to a mishap with an intern, but he is soon distracted by the mystery of his new bodyguard. What will happen next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Did you miss me? I missed all of you! This fic may be one of my favorites, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I uploaded it. I've thought about this chapter for a few days now, and I can't take it anymore, so here's the second chapter, Blood, Sweat, Tears, and Pie! Cas and Dean finally meet face to face, and Wilkes is clearly not as he appears. What will happen next? Read on to find out! I love you all so much, and thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are welcomed and encouraged, enjoy! I love you all!

Chapter Two: Blood, Sweat, Tears, and Pie

Castiel had seen a lot of strange things in his long life. He was an angel of God, after all; he’d seen things out of both dreams and nightmares, miracles and atrocities. Some of these events stood out stark in his memory: the fall of the Tower of Babel, endless human wars that had left the world swimming in blood and destruction. 

Yet here he was, reduced to ferrying delicious baked goods to his would-be employer. And pie, of all things. Technically, he was already hired; some fellow named Wilkes with a deep, raspy voice, as if smoking cigarettes was one of his vices. He’d had a booming, merry laugh that sounded too big for his body, and Castiel’s stomach had warmed at the sweet sound. 

He couldn’t understand, how matter how he tried, why so many of his brothers and sisters hated humans. Perhaps in another time, they could have been one of Adam and Eve’s brood, shoulders heavy with their burden of sin and hope and their overall newness. How could they see their Father’s creations and not love them? They were flawed, true, but beyond salvation? It couldn’t be true to him; if that were true, everything he’d ever done in his Father’s name had been in vain. 

The mere thought of it made the taste of bile coat the inside of his mouth. 

Wilkes had told him to come with offerings, as if Cas was paying tribute to a completely different sort of god. Beer, pie, girly magazines with women on the covers, scantily clad, lips twisted into coy, come-hither smiles; if Cas were attracted to women, he would have blushed. But women, he’d discovered, had left him cold, and any urges he’d felt for the opposite sex had fled when the real Jimmy Novak had died. And anyway, he was much too shy to reach out to anyone, whether they were angelic or human. 

If things had been different for Cas, perhaps he would have been the angel assigned to guard the Winchesters, both for God’s and Lucifer’s purposes. 

Yet somehow now, so many years down the line, their paths were crossing once more. 

Even after the many trainwrecks that were almost the end of the world, Dean Winchester had done the opposite of what Cas and everyone else thought he would do, and had embraced his superstardom with ease. He was followed by trash journalists, trying to get a picture of his beautiful face on a tabloid cover. He was always ready to fight and had a quick temper; it was one of the many things Cas had admired about the eldest Winchester son. 

If anything, Cas felt bad for the people who paid the guy’s legal fees. 

Cas didn’t like to drive often; he didn’t know how to work human things such as motor vehicles. But he didn’t want to spook or piss off his employer; the last thing he wanted was to get off on the wrong foot with Dean fucking Winchester. Things were already sticky as it were. 

He stopped at a gas station to fill up and stock up on goodies, pretending that he’d left his ID in his other pair of pants, like he literally didn’t wear the same thing every single day. It had been unconscious, at first, but it had become an unlikely signature of his. Thanking the acne-riddled teen who was more absorbed in the grainy black and white TV opposite his post, Cas took his loot and walked out to the car, loading everything into the backseat. 

Wilkes had given him directions, and they’d been vague, so vague, in fact, that he’d needed to hook up a near-defunct GPS that offered more static than real help. Nonetheless, he got to the venue; he’d come this far, and he had the job already. 

What was the worst thing that Dean could to do to him? Bite him, take a chunk out of him? 

** 

Dean was in a mighty bad temper by the time his new bodyguard showed up, and he certainly wasn’t shy about showing it. 

“Who fucking got this beer? Tastes like warm piss. Whoever bought us this fucking beer, you’re fired, effective immediately!” Dean’s bellow was so loud that it rattled the bus’s windows in their frames. “I’m going out for a smoke,” He snapped at Wilkes, though he’d had a cigarette in his last year of high school and had spent the rest of the day puking like a pussy, and Wilkes didn’t argue. 

There was no arguing with Dean at the best of times, let alone when he was in this foul a mood. So Wilkes let him go, even though he’d straight up lied to his face. The bus door slammed with a thud, and he winced. Fucking Christ. If Dean hadn’t paid him as much as he did, he would have walked out a long time ago. 

** 

So that was how Castiel met the infamous Dean Winchester, with Dean’s face all red, his long, calloused fingers working at a pack of unopened cigarettes. His hair was slick and sweaty, and he smelled delicious; a woodsy, clean mixture of sweat and cologne, something sharp and expensive, even to Cas’s untrained nose. 

He didn’t know what to say, especially with his bundles in his arms. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean snarled, and Cas found himself flinching when the other man bared his teeth, like he was closer to an animal than human. 

“Uh, I’m...” Cas said, feeling his face betray him and begin to heat up. 

“Speak up, man, I can’t hear you. You need help with all that?” Dean asked impatiently, stepping forward before Cas could reply. He gave the bags to Dean silently, and both men walked to the bus, Dean deftly kicking the door loose with one leg. 

“Wilkes, get your ass over here and help me with this,” Dean ordered, and though the other man pursed his lips, he obeyed, taking the bags and setting them down, unpacking them. Secretly, he was relieved that the angel had followed his instructions. Surely this would take the edge off of Dean’s sudden bout of temper: an expensive beer that seemed to glow from within the bottles that held them, several stacked boxes that contained fragrant baked goods, and several girly magazines. 

If Wilkes hadn’t already hired the guy, he would have now. He didn’t know how the funny guy in the trenchcoat had known, but he did. It was settled now. This guy was family now, and he didn’t care that Dean was pissed off about it. 

“You must be Castiel. We spoke on the phone,” Wilkes said, holding out a hand for the newcomer to shake. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” Castiel smiled shyly, still hating how his face heated up when their hands met. “It’s not a problem at all, really. Thanks for hiring me. I... I really need the money.” He didn’t go into detail, but he didn’t want to show his unease in front of these two strangers. 

“Dean, why don’t you open a beer for our guest?” Wilkes asked. He wanted to widen his eyes, do something to signal to stop acting so fucking weird. The man was a bodyguard and nothing more, but Dean acted like he was about to jump out of his skin. Much to Wilkes’s surprise, Dean obeyed, uncharacteristically quiet. He took a bottle out of its paper holder, twisting the top off and setting it in front of Castiel, making a point not to touch him. 

Wilkes had wanted to hire a man to remove the sexual temptation for Dean, but he hadn’t expected him to shut down entirely. Though he could be abrasive at times, he had inherited John’s signature charm; in fact, Wilkes had tried to recruit their father for the rock star track, but John had laughed. No, he’d said, he was a family man, and he adored his beautiful wife Mary and his growing sons. He fully intended to settle down with his family, the white picket fence and a dog, the whole nine yards. 

But that had been before he’d known Mary’s origins, before Azazel became interested in their family and Sam leading his ‘piss-poor demon army’. 

Little did the Winchesters know, Wilkes had dealings that went a little too far south for their tastes. But what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Not yet, anyway. 

** 

“I didn’t know what flavors of pie you would enjoy,” Cas said quietly, “so I got several. I hope you like them.” His voice was quiet and shy, and his heart skipped when his eyes met Dean’s. They were the rich, gorgeous blue of a spring sky, with a ring of brown around his pupils. 

He’d lost cost of how many times those eyes arrested him, made his heart clench as though he were flying for the very first time. The very first time Cas had seen a picture of Dean, he’d known he was doomed if they ever met, shot dead before he’d even really had a chance to live. His gorgeous eyes, those lush lips that Cas had dreamed of kissing, from a distance, that wicked, impish grin that set hearts racing and made Cas feel uncomfortable. 

He’d been an angel for so long that sexual attraction didn’t make any sense to him. Sins of the flesh were something that he’d been taught to look past. Even when he was occupying Jimmy’s body, those feelings had been distracting but not unmanageable. Except for that one time with Meg... 

“Thanks for stopping by,” Dean murmured, and when he met Cas’s eyes, his cheeks heated. It made him look even more adorable, and Cas fought the urge to squirm. Why was this so very difficult? Why was it so easy for him to get so flustered? It had been years since he’d spoke to his first human, a little girl named Samira with eyes as dark as freshly tilled earth, and her touch had been the warmest thing he’d ever felt, to this very day. Her smile had been like finding a bright jewel within desert sand. 

He couldn’t help but wonder just why his brethren hated these beings so much. It was true that they were cruel, and awful, at times, perhaps even evil. But they weren’t totally beyond redemption. They were just as likely to be kind as well as cruel. 

“Thank you for hiring me,” Cas said at last, holding out his hand to shake. Dean blinked, quirking an eyebrow, but then he smiled, and it was like the sun breaking free of the clouds. 

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to meet you. I take it you’ve heard of me?” He asked, and it was a complete departure from the bellowing, brutish oaf that Cas had glimpsed when they’d first met. 

“Who hasn’t heard of you?” Cas quipped in reply, and was rewarded with a hearty, booming laugh. 

“Welcome to the circus, Castiel. I have a feeling you and I are gonna get along just fine.” 

**


	3. A Conversation Over Tacos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas leave the bus to grab some food and get to know each other on the way. When they return with drinks and tacos, they have a conversation, bonding over their mutual love of one of Dean's favorite books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Did you miss me? I missed all of you! Things have been crazy, between my career, my reading and leisure life, the pandemic, and family life; I haven't had a lot of free time. But fear not! I haven't forgotten you all! I'm so happy and proud of this fic; the third baby of my heart. I love it and I'm so happy you guys do also! This is the third chapter, a Conversation Over Tacos, and I hope you all love reading it as I did writing it. I love you all, thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome! Enjoy! I love you guys!

Chapter Three: A Conversation Over Tacos 

Castiel had grown used to the routine of being Dean’s bodyguard; he felt like a shadow, always a couple feet behind Dean. Cas had also taken to the habit of carrying things for Dean in the pockets of his trenchcoat: money, snacks, his phone. At first, just getting Dean to trust him was difficult. He was guarded and quiet at times, boisterous and generous at others. He was a puzzle that Castiel couldn’t figure out, even after all of this time. 

He was always trailing after him, silent unless spoken to. He passed the time with books, mostly. Cas had only recently discovered the diversion of the written word, and he was holding an old copy of The Odyssey in his lap, squinting down at the tiny black print. Dean was on stage, performing a cover of Robert Johnson’s Crossroads. Cas could barely concentrate on his book with Dean out there, crooning into the mic and making people melt. Despite the comfort of this familiar tale, he was too distracted. Giving up at last and folding a corner of his page down to mark his place, he put the book back in his pocket. 

Just in time, Dean finished the song to roaring applause; even over the roar, Cas could hear Dean’s rich, sweet laugh. “Thank you, thank you, Dallas, Texas!” The crowd was still roaring, with more than one fan calling for an encore. Finally, after what seemed like an age, a pair of men flanked Dean on both sides, leading him off the stage. He was dressed simply, in a pair of dark jeans, steel-toed shoes, and a t-shirt that had the Coke logo on it. Even dressed down, he stole Cas’s breath. It was so unfair. 

“Cas!” Dean said, waving away the armed men with one hand. “I’m fucking bushed. Let’s go get something to eat.” Cas nodded, standing up. He was glad to have a distraction from his own restless thoughts. 

He and Dean stepped out into the dry Texas heat, and Cas sucked in a breath. He’d been all over the world, experienced every climate and culture on the face of the Earth, but the heat in the southern state of Texas was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This was a heat that seeped in through cloth, skin, and bone, dried your mouth and took your breath away. 

“Wait! Shouldn’t you wear a hat or something? I mean, won’t you be recognized? Swarmed by fans?” 

Dean smirked, but much to Cas’s surprise, he went right back to the bus and grabbed a cowboy hat, pulling it low over his eyes. “Better?” 

No, it wasn’t better, because Dean Winchester grinning at him from under the brim of a brown cowboy hat made his traitorous heart skip a beat. But he just nodded, and the two men set off toward a food truck. 

“We’ll take this back to the bus for the others. I think I owe Wilkes for that bitch fit I threw over that beer.” He sounded contrite, and it made Cas’s chest ache. He only nodded. 

“You’re really milking this strong and silent stereotype, aren’t you?” Dean asked, and Cas blushed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” He said softly, and Dean frowned, leaning in closer to hear the other man. 

“I always forget that you and your folk were angels before you were human,” Dean said, blushing himself. “It’s a human expression. Strong and silent. You’re quiet. That’s what made me think of that.” 

** 

By the time they’d reached the food truck and got in line, Dean was kicking himself. Castiel was awkward enough; he didn’t need another excuse to pick at his flaws. Sam had always said that Dean’s insatiable curiosity would be the death of him, and more than once, he’d been right. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He knew all of his team and guards personally, and Castiel would be no different. But the last thing he wanted to do was to make the guy feel unwelcome. They finally got to the front of the line, and Dean ordered as many tacos he could carry. He ordered drinks, too, and handed Cas the carrier. The two men walked back to the truck, and Wilkes met them at the door. 

“Hey, everyone! Dean and Cas brought tacos! Dinnertime!” Wilkes’s shout was met with jolly cheers, Dean’s temper tantrum all but forgotten. The savory scent of shredded meat soon filled the bus. It didn’t escape Cas’s notice that Dean gave everyone their food personally, always with a smile and a touch: a handshake, throwing an arm around shoulders, hugs. 

Castiel sat down at a small table over by a window, and in the dying sunset, he busied himself with finishing the chapter of his book. For a while, he made a nest in the familiar words, trying to ignore that pain of longing and betrayal that accompanied the book. It had been a gift from Metatron, the Voice of the Lord. He’d been so happy that day, not just to receive one of humanity’s stories, but to see The Voice of God in real life. 

Cas was pulled from the swirling tide of his thoughts by the arrival of Dean with a closed box. The scents of garlic, lime, and something floral and herby came to Cas’s nose, and he looked up. 

“You’re reading The Odyssey?” Dean asked, a disbelieving smile on his face. “That’s one of my favorite books!” Before Cas could answer, Dean plopped down beside him, putting the box in between them. 

“I’ve read it so many times that I broke the spine on my parents’ old copy.” Cas smiled, imagining a younger Dean curled up in a corner, head bent over the old epic. 

“Why don’t you put that book down and eat something? You’re so skinny.” He opened the box, and Cas’s stomach rumbled. “Well, Mr. Winchester--” 

“Mr. Winchester was my father. It’s Dean, to you and everyone else.” 

“Okay. Dean it is. I’m an angel. Technically, I don’t need to eat.” 

“Well, you’re in a human body, aren’t you? Eat.” 

Cas smiled and shook his head, but he took a taco out of the box and took a big bite. He heard Dean’s quiet laughter behind him, and he turned to look at him. 

“Here, Castiel. Let me show you how to properly eat a taco.” 

**


	4. Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time, Cas and Dean spend a night apart; they're all due to leave Dallas the next afternoon. But a complication comes up, and Cas soon finds himself in hot water, as he's beginning to feel forbidden things toward his employer. What will happen next? Read on to find out! Chapter four of Armed and Dangerous, Ring, is now live!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! First of all, I want to say I'm so sorry for the long wait! My life has gotten crazy busy in the best ways. Let's just say that I've had something on the back burner for a while and it's almost done! Between my career, my family life, my leisure activities, and reading, my summer has already been off to a great start. But I've missed you all, and I really hope you love this chapter! I've been thinking about it for a while! Dean can't be found after he and Cas separate for the night, and he and Wilkes have an argument that Cas has to break up. Cas begins to feel certain forbidden things for Dean Winchester... What will happen? Read on to find out! I love you all so much, thank you so much for your patience and for reading! As always, kudos and comments are welcome! I love you all! Thank you for being fans!

Chapter Four 

Ring 

Dean awoke to the shrill blare of his personal cell phone, jarring him out of a muddled, confusing dream that involved him, a beautiful girl, and a man standing at the head of the bed, his face hidden, blacked out, the only hint to his identity his heavy breathing, and the low growl of Dean’s name. 

He felt something growing stiff in his boxers, and he groaned, verbally expressing the tension in his body. Unfortunately, there was no such thing for him to do with his mind. Some days were like this, though he hadn’t one in at least a month. If he didn’t already have such a packed day planned, he’d say fuck it and stay in the bus all day, the blinds closed. 

But he’d already told Wilkes that he wanted the crew to begin the move out of Dallas, down through Austin and on to San Antonio. And he’d made a time limit: They’d leave at 3 o’clock in the afternoon at the latest. And he had no idea what time it was... 

Fumbling for his phone, he grabbed it off of the bedside table, swearing. He swiped without looking. 

“Hello?” 

It was Wilkes’s voice on the other end of the line, sharp and angry and altogether too loud. 

“Dean! Where the hell are you? Are you still in bed? It’s quarter to one, and not even Cas could find you!” 

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. Mumbling a quick, half-assed apology, he hung up. 

At least one good thing came from that impromptu wakeup call: his morning wood had officially worn off, thank God. Though, he mused to himself, that he’d stopped believing in God years ago. 

Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he stretched, then quickly took a shower, though it was pretty much pointless. The minute he stepped outside, he’d be soaked to the skin, as though he’d never left the shower. Still, he’d been damned if he were caught in public looking anything less than immaculate. 

He might have been single, but he’d always been vain about how he looked. He supposed he got that from his father; Mary didn’t have any vanity or pride when it came to anything except her children and husband. He pulled on a pair of expensive jeans dyed black, a pair of cowboy boots—it was always a good idea to cater to the locals—and a t-shirt that bore an old-school, vintage cover for a Guns N’ Roses album. He put a little gel in his hair and grinned at his reflection. 

Time to face the world. 

** 

Castiel was standing next to Wilkes, waiting with the other man while he paced back and forth, making call after call. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, he hung up, putting his phone back in his breast pocket, swearing quietly. Still, with Cas’s perfect hearing, the word rhymed with luck and began with an f. 

“I’m so sorry, Cas, he was supposed to be here at eight.” Wilkes said quietly, shaking his head. “I have no clue what’s gotten into him recently. He’s always been stubborn, but... He’s been acting really weird.” Wilkes paused, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow, deep puff. He turned his face away from Cas to exhale, coughing heavily. 

“Are you all right, Wilkes?” Cas asked, frowning. He stepped closer to the other man and touched his wrist, subtly. He didn’t completely get rid of the man’s cough, but he healed his lungs, just enough. Just enough to heal ease his discomfort. 

“Oh yes, I’m fine, young man,” Wilkes replied, though at best he was probably three or four years older than Cas. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be right as rain, son.” 

Cas frowned at him, but he nodded, not pushing the issue. He resisted the urge to take off his trenchcoat; his clothes were sticking to his skin as though glued. But he’d become too comfortable with his façade, with the image he was familiar with. To distract himself, he took The Odyssey out of his pocket, and for a while, he spent the time with Odysseus, imagining the salty breeze coming off of the Aegean. 

He was broken out of his thoughts by the roar of an engine, and he could hear Wilkes swear once again. 

Before Dean was even out of the infamous Impala, Wilkes was charging across the flat dirt, his mouth screwed up in a scowl. 

“What in the hell is the matter with you?!” Wilkes said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Did you not say last night, and I quote, ‘We better be out of Dallas by three o’clock, or there would be dire consequences?” Before Dean could answer, the other man scoffed. 

“Before you get your panties in a wad,” Dean said tightly, “I forgot to set my alarm and I overslept. I’m sorry.” He got out of Baby, closing the door with a click. 

“That doesn’t explain how you got Baby!” Wilkes replied, shaking his head. 

“I called in a few favors. No biggie. I had to get here somehow, didn’t I?” 

Cas knew that tone; Dean could really kick his heels in when he felt like it. 

“As soon as we get back to the bus, I’m calling the impound lot back. You can’t keep it.” 

“Who employs who here? Fuck off, Wilkes,” Dean snapped back, and Cas stepped subtly between them, sensing a fight on the horizon. 

“All right,” Cas murmured quietly, as if he were soothing animals, not flesh and blood men, “I think we just all need to cool it, all right?” 

Wilkes walked away to take a phone call, face still as dark as a storm cloud, and Cas looked at Dean. 

“Are you all right, Dean? I looked everywhere for you, called all of the crew.” 

Dean looked at the other man with a raised eyebrow as if surprised by the question. 

“I’m here in one piece, aren’t I?” 

** 

Cas felt seen, naked, in a way that he hadn’t felt in centuries. It was part of the job, to be concerned about your charge. It was normal. 

Wasn’t it? 

But he’d felt this before, or at least an echo of it. And he knew that it meant nothing good. 

He’d been tearing his hair out when he’d called Dean, only to receive no answer. His only job was to keep track of the other man, and somehow, Dean had gotten away from him. Cas didn’t know how it had happened. They’d bid each other good night, and Cas had no need to sleep, though his human body was wearying. He’d paced the bus like a big cat in a cage, made restless from his own thoughts. Metatron, God, and Dean swirled in his mind, a murky whirlpool of which he could make no sense. 

He’d sat at that little table all night; the crew members on the bus seemed not to take notice of him, aside from small smiles and friendly waves. To make himself look busy, he opened his book, putting a stack of small paperbacks under it to prop it up. He’d always carried books around, but it was important to him that all of them fit in his pockets, even with all of the sundries he kept for Dean. 

The thought of Metatron was almost too bitter to visit; the only reason he hadn’t burned the novel he’d been given was because it was of his last connections, however tenuous, to God. 

And this sudden bout of feelings for this gorgeous, mysterious man, whose eyes gleamed with secret kindness, whose hands were as gentle on a guitar’s strings as well as skin... 

Well, it made things even more problematic and complicated. 

Of all the times to catch feelings, why now? 

**


	5. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five of my smutty Supernatural AU fic, Jealous, is now officially live! Castiel begins to realize the depth of his feelings for his charge, Dean. What will happen next? Read on to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm back, did you miss me? So I know I said I'd update twice a month, but I've been watching Supernatural again and I just had to update again! I've missed all of you! My summer has gotten started, and I've been so busy, in the best way! Between my reading, my career, my leisure activities, and everything else, I can feel big things on the horizon. Your girl's been working hard and it's all about to pay off, I can feel it in my bones. In this chapter, Jealous, Cas begins to realize that his feelings for Dean go far deeper than he ever imagined. I love you all, and thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are welcome, as always! Thank you so much for sticking with me, and loving my stories. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be doing this at all. I love all of you!

Armed and Dangerous 

Chapter 5 

Jealous 

The ride out of Dallas was tense and thick with silence; it hung over the group like a poisonous cloud. Dean and Wilkes had argued the entire way back to the bus; Castiel had gotten to ride in the front seat, which he suspected was out of spite. 

“Wilkes, it’s my fucking car, man.” Dean said coldly, driving one handed, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “It’s my dad’s car. You can’t honestly sit here and tell me that I have to impound it.” 

Castiel wondered if he was thinking of John, Mary, and Sam; if he could still feel the souls of his family, though his parents were dead and gone. And Sam, well. Sam had made a life for himself outside of hunting, choosing to stay at Stanford and head the legend and myths department. He’d gotten married, but no children. 

Castiel had been unable to resist following them, though he had not been chosen as the angel who watched over the boys. Despite himself, he’d still been drawn to them; for years, they’d been his North Star, his guiding lights. Reading novels had infused him with a romanticism that was now impossible to shake. 

“I already told you,” Wilkes replied, snapping Cas out of his thoughts. “This car is too noticeable.” 

“Like a giant fucking tour bus isn’t?” Dean rejoined, adding an epic eyeroll for dramatic effect. “I’m tired of arguing with you, Wilkes. You work for me, end of story. That means doing what I say.” 

“Not if it’s not within your best interest!” Wilkes fired back, and Cas took a deep breath, wishing that like some of his brothers and sisters, he could influence emotions. But he didn’t have that kind of power even at his full state, so it was mere wishful thinking. 

“Perhaps we should wait until we get to the bus before an argument starts?” He asked mildly, though on the inside his nerves were jangling. He hated conflict, and always had. Yet another reason for his siblings to call him weak, malleable. They could jeer at him all they liked, but he had his honor. At the very least, that could not be called into question, despite his previous mistakes. 

Both men, much to Cas’s surprise, fell silent at his inquiry. The silence felt pregnant, loaded, explosive like a bomb. They drove back to the bus, and Wilkes gently tapped the back of Cas’s seat. Silently, Cas got out of the car, and Wilkes pushed past him, muttering about pay raises and crybaby superstars. 

Dean scowled, but Cas noted that when he got out, he was careful with the door. 

He looked up at Cas, one slim brow raised. 

“You got a problem with me, too, hotshot?” He grumbled, without any real heat. 

Mutely, Cas shook his head. 

“Of course not. I was merely worried when we couldn’t find you,” He said, quietly, but loud enough for Dean to hear clearly. 

“And the car?” Dean asked tersely. He looked up at Cas, meeting his eye for the first time. 

“It was your father’s,” Cas said softly, simply. A soft, shy smile played at the corners of his lips, and for the first time, those bright, beautiful eyes softened. 

“Thanks for backing me up, Cas.” 

** 

Those words and that smile—God damn it, that smile—had Cas feeling quite unlike himself. His palms were sweaty, he could feel his heartbeat in his throat and wrists, and despite the abundance of books in his pockets, he couldn’t make a nest in those comforting words. His mind was too full of reality to want his usual escape into fiction. 

It wasn’t like he’d done anything extraordinary. All he’d done was stand up for Dean. After all, protecting him was paramount, and he knew how much Dean loved baby. It was his, had been his father’s; he and Sam had driven all over the country inside it. It made sense, that he’d want to keep one last piece of his fractured family. His thoughts were wild, bursting free at one moment, then vanishing the next. 

What was wrong with him? Dean Winchester was a client. Not even a friend. That word would be too generous. Dean employed him, paid him. To even imagine that there was something deeper between them would be tantamount to lunacy. 

He might have fallen from Heaven, but he knew what he was. An angel didn’t fraternize with humans. Then again, he had always been different from his siblings, prone to questions and doubts and flaws. One of his brothers had said more than once that Cas sympathized with humanity far too often. 

And here he was, guarding a rock star, a reformed hunter. 

Yet he couldn’t be amused by the irony of it. 

He was walking along a knife’s edge and he knew it. 

** 

Cas had made himself comfortable in the bus; Wilkes had walked off for a smoke. He was reading his book when the door to the bus opened with a muted thud. He jumped, and the book fell out of his hands. Swearing quietly, he bent down to pick it up. 

When he sat back up, the book cradled in his hands, he found Dean pulling a young woman into his rooms at the back of the bus. His private rooms were not to be touched by anyone, not even Wilkes, for fear of getting gutted like a fish. There was a flash of long, dark hair; Dean’s face, in the brief glimpse Cas had gotten, was flushed, his eyes dark with desire. 

Cas said, “Hey, Dean.” 

Dean merely grunted in reply before pulling the girl into the room and closing the door. 

Despite himself, Cas found his stomach in knots, and a sick, burning feeling began to make his chest tighten. He knew the beginnings of this feeling, and it confirmed what he already knew to be true. 

He wanted Dean, lusted for him. He knew he’d been doomed from the moment he’d answered the job posting. 

But acknowledging the feeling was the first step off the edge of a cliff. 

**


	6. Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six, Ride, is live at last! Dean and Wilkes talk about Baby, and Wilkes tells Dean that he has Castiel to thank for rescuing Baby. What will happen next? Read on to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Did you miss me? I missed all of you! Okay, so, I'll get the bad news out of the way first. I have to send my computer in for repairs and this will be the last time I update for at least a month. Please bear with me and be patient! My life has been crazy busy in the best way. And with school about to start in three weeks, I decided to just bite the bullet and get it over with. This chapter is short but I promise more sexy times are coming! In this, chapter six, Ride, Dean and Wilkes mend fences, and Wilkes tells Dean that he has Cas to thank for saving Baby. What will happen next? Read on to find out! I love you all, and thank you so much for reading! As always, kudos and comments are welcome! I love you all so much, and thank you for sticking with my story! Until next time! <3

When Dean awoke, he found his flavor of the day curled up next to him, and he felt a dull flash of loathing. It was no secret, how Dean Winchester tended to think with his dick more than his brain. But he’d been off-kilter about Baby, and Wilkes, and Castiel. Something about that mysterious smile made Dean’s chest tighten. 

The woman’s dark hair spilled like ink over his immaculate white sheets, and her chest rose and fell. Gently, he shook her shoulder. 

“Hey, I gotta get going, okay? You need to get up,” Dean whispered, kissing her temple. He might have played at being a gruff asshole, and he might have been a rock star, but he appreciated her pleasuring him. 

She woke up and smiled sleepily, running one hand down his naked chest. “Are you sure you’re not up for another round?” She purred, and for a single moment, he was tempted. But he was already in enough hot water with Wilkes, and he didn’t feel like pushing it. 

“Thank you, but no,” He whispered, though he cupped her ass and squeezed. She groaned, grinding against his hand. “That’s not very nice, Winchester...” 

He chuckled and let go, and watched her while she got dressed. He allowed her to kiss his cheek, then she got dressed and left. He could hear her say goodbye to Cas, but much to Dean’s surprise, he didn’t hear the other man respond. 

He quickly got dressed, not bothering with a shower. He found Cas sitting in his little alcove, head bent over a book. His face, normally so open and friendly, was dark, and Dean found himself wondering what was eating him. 

“Morning, Cas. You ready to hit the road?” Dean asked, and Cas shrugged, wordlessly. 

Even for strong and silent, this was unusual, and if he weren’t so distracted by all the things he had to do today, he would’ve asked Castiel what was wrong with him. He didn’t even know Castiel knew how to shrug. He clapped Cas on the shoulder, and was surprised to feel the other man flinch away from the touch. 

What had happened last night? Yesterday, it had seemed that they were on the same page. But he didn’t have time to worry about that; he had to find Wilkes and apologize. The least he could do was attempt to smooth things over with his manager. 

“Have you seen Wilkes?” He asked Cas, and Cas nodded. “He was on the phone when I saw him last. But I think he’s still here.” 

“Thanks, Cas.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Dean walked off the bus, glad to see that the woman he’d spent the night with was gone; the last thing he needed was to give his agent any more ammunition against him. He found Wilkes in the shade, on the phone. He waited, hands in his pockets, until Wilkes hung up. 

“What’s up, Dean? You here to rip my head off again?” Wilkes asked, his tone positively glacial. 

Dean shook his head. “No, of course not. Actually, I’m here to apologize. I might have... overreacted.” 

Wilkes snorted, but he didn’t say anything else, as if he was waiting for Dean to finish. 

“I realize that you’re trying to protect me, and I know where you’re coming from.” Dean added, rubbing the back of his neck. God, he hated talking about his emotions. It was so messy, and he didn’t cry. He just wasn’t wired to open up to someone like that. “But, with all due respect, I don’t want to give up Baby. She’s all I got left of my family, Wilkes.” Dean heard his voice crack, like a boy just entering puberty. 

Wilkes’s face softened, and he smiled at Dean. “I’ve already called the impound lot. I sent them a check in your name so we could keep her.” He said, and Dean blinked. He’d been expecting a lot more resistance than that, and he felt all the tension in his body leave him. 

His body moved forward without his consent, and he hugged Wilkes, slapping him on the back. 

“Thank you, Wilkes. Thank you so much!” 

“Don’t thank me. It was Castiel.” Wilkes said, laughing softly and hugging Dean back. “He said that you deserved to keep Baby, and I’m inclined to agree. He’s the one who went to bat for you, Dean. Now go tell him, huh?” 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice; after he shook hands with Wilkes, he ran back to the bus, full tilt. 

“Castiel! Cas, come out here, right now!” Dean called, climbing the steps to the bus three at a time. When he came inside, he found Cas with his trenchcoat discarded, and his shirt off. His back was to Dean, and the sight of the other man’s bare skin made him go stiff in his jeans. Castiel had tattoos, a beautiful rendering of an angel’s wings in stark black ink. Below the angel’s wings, there was a beautiful scripture, though Dean couldn’t read it. He didn’t know why, but his throat was tight. 

Cas turned around, and Dean could’ve sworn he saw red in the other man’s cheeks. 

“What’s up, Dean?” He asked, and Dean saw that he had another symbol just above his heart, this ink as red as blood and broken hearts. He pulled his shirt back on, then looked at Dean, waiting for him to respond. 

But Dean’s brain was stalling, still hung up on Cas’s smooth skin. 

“I... I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me and Baby.” He said at last, and Castiel smiled sadly, shaking his head. 

“I only did what anyone would do. You deserve to keep her. She’s part of your family.” 

“Want to go for a ride?” 

**


	7. Under a Candy-Painted Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thanks Castiel for intervening with Wilkes and helping him keep Baby. As a thank you, Dean offers to take him for a ride. As the two go on a makeshift trip (date?), Dean realizes that what he feels for Castiel can no longer be ignored. Will angel and hunter find common ground under the candy-coated sky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! First of all: I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to update. First I got overwhelmed when school started, and with the holidays, I just lost track of time. I've only recently begun to get back into writing (for both work and my fun projects) and I've missed you all so much! I hope you love this chapter, seven. Under A Candy-Painted Sky! Kudos, comments, and concrit feedback welcomed! I hope you all loved this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned, because the fun is just beginning and things are only just starting to heat up. I love you all, and thank you for reading my story! This is the third baby of my heart and I love it so much. Enjoy!

Chapter 7 

Under a Candy-Painted Sky 

Castiel had been surprised from his thoughts by the arrival of Dean, leaping up the bus steps in one shot. Even at thirty-one, he was still as spry and nimble as ever. He’d been seized by the peculiar sensation of crawling in his own skin, of itching so infectious that he’d taken his shirt off at the first opportunity. He’d run his hands over his skin, his shoulders, chest, and back, and the tattoos that covered them. 

“Cas! Cas, Wilkes told me what you did, and I just wanted to thank you.” He said excitedly, and to Cas’s eye, Dean was all lit up, and there was something innocent in his expression that made the other man melt. “You didn’t have to do that just for me,” He continued, blushing bashfully. 

Cas didn’t know that this side of Dean had existed until this very moment. It made him look angelic, surreal, blurred at the edges with an energy Cas hadn’t seen before. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” He demurred, pulling his shirt over his head, all too conscious of his bare skin and Dean’s eyes on his back. 

“I was only doing what was right. Y’know, that’s what angels are supposed to do.” 

** 

He said the last with a sly smile that made Dean’s heart do flipflops and his stomach knot itself into ropes. 

The sight of Castiel’s bare skin, pale with accents of black and red, had set his heart stuttering. He was so tall, and beautiful, muscular. Dean found himself wondering exactly how just his fingers would feel along the angel’s back, to run fingertips across his shoulders, to feel the ink drawn onto his skin. 

“Do you want to go for a ride?” He asked, before he could reconsider. “That’s the least I can do for saving my Baby.” 

** 

Cas blinked; he hadn’t expected Dean to be so friendly, or grateful. But before he could rethink it, he nodded. 

“Of course. Where do you want to go?” 

** 

Dean had no idea where to take Castiel; there was no place that immediately sprang to mind for him. 

“Let’s go see a sunset, shall we?” 

** 

For a moment, there was only silence as the two men got into the car. Dean turned the key, and there was nothing except Baby’s loud, familiar purr. 

Dean had no idea where to go; he’d had no plan outside of getting Cas alone. To know that the other man had gone to bat for him in such a major way; he was almost feeling affectionate. And he barely knew the guy. This scared the hell out of him. He didn’t catch feelings. Period. End of story. He hit it and quit it, sometimes by himself, other times with help, from a friend or a girl. He’d never really acknowledged the fact that he was bi, not until Castiel had come along. 

Until Castiel, the possibility of loving a man had seemed so abstract as to be laughable. But then he thought about his dream, that husky rasp of a voice within the shadows, panting with need. It had been so compelling that he’d awoken hard, his dick pushing against his boxers. 

And now, to know that Castiel had fought for him, for his freedom, and for Baby, the last vestige of his family. It made him realize that he could no longer avoid his attraction to his bodyguard. 

Dean paid his wages. At the very least, this was unethical. 

Even though nothing had actually happened yet. 

** 

Cas was quiet in the front seat, content to look out on the flat, barren land, the occasional burst of green and pink cacti, the giant, yawning bowl that was the sky, scudded occasionally with a cloud. It was a strange, stark sort of beauty, one that Castiel was unfamiliar with. 

He was jolted from his thoughts by Dean’s voice, curious. 

“Castiel, you were an angel. You must have seen so many beautiful things. What was your favorite? The one place you’d go back to, again and again?” 

** 

How could Castiel even answer such a thing? He’d lived for such a long time, through things that Dean could not even begin to comprehend. He was so young, he and Sam both, even for humans. 

It worried him to the core; he wondered if one or both of the men were forever damaged by their years hunting dark creatures. 

** 

Dean had no game plan, but he let his heart lead him. 

Eventually, they made it away from civilization, out into the real desert, and Dean found himself staring out into the candy-coated sky, all bruised dusk purples and bright burnt orange and gold. He pulled over at a food truck, and the two shared a meal of burgers, colas, and fries, and Dean introduced Cas to the simple, classic pleasure of a well-made meal on the road. 

It wasn’t much, as far as a first date, but it was a start. A beginning. 

Even though all Dean wanted was to lean across the seat and grab Cas’s dark hair and pull his face to his, their lips meeting in a kiss. Slow and gentle and soft at first, then deep, hungry, smoldering. 

Dean began to realize just how much trouble he was in. 

Castiel was his bodyguard. He paid and employed him. 

What would it look like if they started sleeping together? 

Unless this was... 

Dean couldn’t let himself think it. 

Not that word. It had only come up a handful of times in his youth, from a few partners, or more accurately, playmates. He had thought, for a while, that his heart lay with Cassie back in Ohio, back when he was young and had no concept of what true pain, fear, and loss was. 

But he could no longer deny to himself that Castiel intrigued him. From his strange mannerisms, dreamy smile, unusual fashion choices, and choice in literature, Dean found his head full of the other man. 

This was a bad sign, but it was one he could no longer hide from. 

**


End file.
